A policy of banning all sex in prison will not work

A blanket ban on sex in prison leads to prisoners failing to report rape or sexual assault for fear of punishment.

The challenge currently facing prisons with regards sexual health and public opinion is not dissimilar to that faced by Edinburgh in the 1980s in the face of the HIV crisis. That was the chilling warning heard by the Howard League Commission on sex in prisons. The Commission’s first briefing, on consensual sex in male prisons, is published today. In the 1980s, Edinburgh saw a police crackdown on heroin use that was successful in cutting the number of available syringes and equipment at the very same time as HIV was introduced into the local drug scene. The result was that drug users shared needles and HIV spread, so that the city was briefly the aids capital of europe. The crisis was eventually eased by a public health approach that included needle exchanges and the distribution of methadone. The balance between crackdowns that play to punitive public sentiment and a public health approach that will actually reduce harm and prove most effective in protecting communities is one Chris Grayling should bear in mind, as he considers a crackdown on sex in prison.

The statistics on consensual sex in men’s prisons are limited and vague – a Home Office study back in 1994/5 reported that between 1.6 and 3.4 per cent of their sample adult male prisoners admitted to being engaged in consensual sex with an inmate. However, the true figure is thought to be higher. The British Association of Sexual Health and HIV told us that while female prisoners were likely to be open about sex with each other, male prisoners were not. According to the Terrence Higgins Trust male prisons tend to be more homophobic than the wider community, making honest reporting harder. Indeed, far from being ‘cosy’ for LGBT prisoners, all the evidence suggests that they are at greater risk of discrimination and most vulnerable to sexual abuse while inside.

The prison service instruction manual states: ‘there is no rule specifically prohibiting sexual acts between prisoners, but if they are observed by someone who finds (or could potentially find) their behaviour offensive, a charge…may
be appropriate.’ in practice this results in an inconsistent approach and a system ripe for abuse. Some prisoners have reported being left alone as long as they were discreet, while others reported staff trying to catch them out in order to issue them with a warning. It has also been suggested that separation and being written up can be used as a means of discriminating against openly gay prisoners, while policies preventing sex in prisons can be seen to ‘legitimise’ homophobic attitudes.

There is no denying that the issue of consensual sex in prison is a tricky one. The National Offender Management Service argued, in their evidence to us, that it is virtually impossible for staff to tell whether a relationship is consensual or coercive. It can be further complicated by the fact that what starts as consensual can later become coercive.

On a trip to the US I met Troy Isaak, a member of Just Detention International Survivors’ Council. He told me that during one period of incarceration in a Los Angeles jail he entered into a consensual relationship with another inmate but then when the relationship broke down he was repeatedly raped. Staff refused to do anything as he’d originally consented. Sex is banned in US jails.

However we must be careful not to learn the wrong lesson from cases such as this, which call for greater action in tackling the complexities of sexual abuse behind bars, not making the system more punitive for those who engage in consensual sex. A blanket ban on sex in prison leads to prisoners failing to report rape or sexual assault for fear of punishment. While a 2005 report (pdf) from the Prison Reform Trust and National Aids Trust expressed concern that ‘if sexual activity is subject to punitive sanctions, or stigmatised, the likelihood is that people will be less likely to take precautions.’ Most respondents to the Home Office study admitted they did not practice safe sex.

The Department of Health states that prisoners are more likely to be affected by blood-borne diseases, more likely to have engaged in high-risk behaviours and as a result are at higher risk of sexually transmitted infections. To ignore this and then ignore calls for help in practicing safe sex is, according to the Terrence Higgins Trust, ‘highly irresponsible and unethical.’

Her Majesty’s Prison Inspectorate, the Terrence Higgins Trust and National Aids Trust all raised concerns with the Commission about the variable access to condoms within prisons. We heard a range of approaches. Some prisons offer advice and make barrier protection, dental dams and lubrication freely available. However, in at least one privately run prison prisoners are only issued with a condom if they then return it used before being issued with another. Other prisons refuse to issue barrier protection. We received evidence from one HIV-positive prisoner who was refused protection and, as a result, went on to have unprotected sex with another inmate. We heard that some prisoners are sanctioned for requesting too many condoms. One prison governor even said they had no need to issue barrier protection as his prison contained no homosexuals. The National Aids Trust said, ‘attempts to control consensual sexual activity between prisoners risk undermining efforts to promote HIV prevention and improved sexual health in prison populations.’

What Chris Grayling and others need to remember is that this is not merely a health crisis confined to prisons: all of these prisoners will eventually return to their communities and will pass on any infections to the wider community. A policy of banning all sex in prison will not work: it will further legitimise homophobia within prisons, its implementation will result in a system ripe for abuse as well as discrimination against LGBT prisoners; it will discourage prisoners from reporting rape and sexual assault and divert attention from the real law and order issue – which is the correct management and response to occurrences of coercive sex in custody. Most importantly of all, it does nothing to address the fact that prisoners will continue to have sex and an even more punitive system will worsen the risky practices causing this public health crisis.

In the US, Just Detention International successfully showed that prison rape was not only inhumane but also cost the community far more – financially as well as socially – than successfully preventing rape behind bars. Similarly, the cost to us all will be greater in dealing with the spread of STIs than a pragmatic policy to ensure safe sex in our prison system.

Michael Amherst is on the board of Just Detention International and the Howard League Commission on Sex in Prisons

A prison guard at HMP Pentonville. Photo: Getty
Photo: Getty
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Why the past 12 months have been the worst of my lifetime

We desperately need a return to calm and moderation.

Twitter is a weird phenomenon: a deeply selective, wholly unreliable Survation or YouGov in your pocket, with an even bigger margin for error. I’ve been tweeting for a year now, but I’m still useless at guessing what is likely to attract attention; so I was taken completely by surprise at the end of last week when a comment I jotted down received thousands of Likes and retweets. “It’s a year since Jo Cox was murdered,” I wrote: “the worst year for Britain in my lifetime. We badly need a return to Jo’s concept of moderation now.”

Fairly anodyne, you would have thought, but it seems to have touched a nerve. Clearly many other people feel that the past year, with its violence and disasters and wholesale political instability, has been a bad one. For days afterwards, my phone kept buzzing as more people retweeted it. There were, as always, a few contrarians who objected that other years since 1944 must have been worse; some said “much worse”. But that isn’t really true.

After D-Day, we knew the war was going to be won. Despite the bombs, the country was proud of itself and pulling together, and the likes of my father were hoping for a better world as soon as it was finished. The year of the Suez crisis, 1956, was pretty bad, but Anthony Eden was gone directly, and Harold Macmillan’s phoney self-confidence convinced people that things would be all right – and anyway the economy was growing impressively.

The period of the Heath government had awful moments: 1972, the year of Bloody Sunday and IRA attacks, was especially bad. Yet there was nothing like the appalling Grenfell Tower fire to divide the nation. And 1974 was humiliating for the government, but our membership of the European Economic Community offered a certain stability. We had a different, more forelock-tugging relationship with our political leaders then. The news bulletins used to talk reverently of “the prime minister, Mr Wilson”; now they just say “Theresa May”.

Today we have a prime minister who is held to have been mortally wounded by a series of personal failures and miscalculations; a governing party that has been self-harming for years over the question of ­Europe; an opposition that, until just recently, was regarded as hopelessly incompetent and naive; an economy that could be damaged by an ill-judged Brexit agreement; and a new vulnerability to terrorism, in which one atrocity quickly overlays the memory of the last.

There’s a newly hysterical tone in British society, which had always seemed so reassuringly reliable and sensible. The crowd that stormed Kensington Town Hall as though it were the Bastille or the Winter Palace mistook a man in a suit for a Tory councillor and beat him up. It transpired that he was an outside contractor who had spent much of the week helping the Grenfell Tower victims.

Above all, what was until recently the world’s fifth-largest economy has suddenly found itself on the edge of a trapdoor in the dark. “Back to the Thirties”, some people are saying. “Venezuela”, say others. Even Brexiteers who feel liberated and excited at the prospect of getting out of the EU can’t know if it’s going to work. Friends of mine who voted Leave because they were fed up with David Cameron or thought things needed a shake-up now show a degree of buyer’s remorse. Perhaps, like Boris Johnson in the BBC2 drama Theresa vs Boris, they thought the country was so stable that nothing bad would actually happen.

We’ve entered a period of sudden, neurotic mood swings. The opinion polls, unable to cope, tell us at one moment that Jeremy Corbyn is regarded as dangerous and useless, and at the next that a growing number of people see him as the national saviour. The Prime Minister’s “safe pair of hands” are now deemed too shaky to carry the country’s china. Ukip polled over 10 per cent in 450 seats in 2015, and in only two seats in 2017.

If any further evidence of neuroticism is needed, there is the longing that people have to be enfolded in the arms of a comforting authority figure. For some, it was the Queen, calming everyone down with a message of unity, or Prince William, hugging a grieving woman after the Grenfell Tower fire. For others, it was Corbyn doing the right human things while Theresa May walked past the tower ruins awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

It feels like being back in 1997, with the huge crowds in the Mall or outside Kensington Palace demanding to be comforted after the death of Diana. Then, the Queen was blamed for not being the mother figure we seemed, disturbingly, to want. Tony Blair had the right words at that time, and no doubt he would have had the right words after Grenfell Tower. But is it merely words and gestures we need?

It’s a bad sign when countries feel that they need an individual to sort them out. It’s because of its system, based on openness, inclusiveness and the rule of law, that Britain has grown strong and wealthy. Jo Cox said in her maiden speech in June 2015: “While we celebrate our diversity, what surprises me time and time again as I travel around the constituency is that we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.”

She was murdered by a fanatic who screamed, “This is for Britain! Britain will always come first!” The year that those words ushered in has indeed been the worst in my lifetime. The government slogan “Keep calm and carry on” was invented in 1939, when all-out German bombing seemed imminent. It is easy to lampoon but when it was rediscovered a few years ago it became popular, because it spoke directly to our national consciousness. We’ve never had more need of calmness than now.

John Simpson is World Affairs Editor of BBC News, having worked for the corporation since the beginning of his career in 1970. He has reported from more than 120 countries, including 30 war zones, and interviewed many world leaders.

This article first appeared in the 22 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The zombie PM

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